


Cuddling

by ramuda



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 07:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramuda/pseuds/ramuda
Summary: His grip on Banri’s forearm tightens, and his facade is shattered.So much for being a flawless actor.





	Cuddling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hifudo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hifudo/gifts).



> hi this is a commission for my friend april  
> thank u for being patient with me i tried really hard on this and i had a lot of fun writing them!!  
> writing for a series im not super familiar with was challenging but... i enjoyed it

Snip, snip. The sound of fabric tearing at the seams.

Tenma presses a pillow over his head.

Click, click, click. A frustrated sigh accompanied by fabric hitting the bottom of the bin.

“Can you like… be quiet?” Tenma quips, muffled in the plush of his comforter. He shifts so he can peek out of the bed at the clock. 12:48am.

Yuki sighs again, halting the whirr of the sewing machine and pulling out whatever he was working on. “You know the agreement we created when we first started rooming together, if you really have that much of a problem you can g-“

He digs his fingernails harder into the pillow. Deep breaths, Tenma thinks, one, two, thr…

Scissors clank against the sewing machine before it starts whirring again.

“Ugh… Can you like… shut up for one night?!”

“No.”

“Taichi left like an hour ago!”

“I’m aware.”

“Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“It’s Friday.”

“A play?”

“Maybe if you kept up with the troupe schedule, you good-for-nothing actor, you’d know I’m not booked up until next week.”

Tenma groans, abruptly sitting up, one hand clutching his pillow to his chest and the other adjusting the sleeping mask tangled within his hair. He glares at Yuki, needle in mouth and eyes squinted in focus, before looking back to the clock. 12:52. 

“I’m going to Banri-san’s room.”

“Figured as much.”

Yuki doesn’t even care.

“I’m going to director and asking for a new roommate tomorrow.”

“Have fun with that.”

Yuki pulls a piece of fabric from god knows where, pink and lacey and so, so irritating when he lines it up to the pattern, that Tenma considers chucking his pillow at him right now. Instead, he glares, shooting imaginary daggers through the sheer fabric as he gets up to leave.

Slipping his shoes on (zebra print, he got them from the Gucci store), he grabs his lanyard and opens the door, brisk cool air running through his hair and the buzz of crickets sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’ll be back in the morning.”

Yuki does nothing but let out a condescending hum.

-

Maybe Yuki is akin to a cricket.

The buzz fills his ears, an earthly humming that shouldn’t be this aggravating. A moth whirrs by him, attracted to the dimmed light of the balcony, and he swats it away before it can close in on his personal space. He follows the bug with his eyes, watching it fly up and up before it hits the bulb with a zap. So much for that.

He can’t hear himself think over the nightly ambience, laying his head against Banri’s door. He must already be sleeping, Tenma thinks, but the spare key hidden in the potted plant next to the door isn’t there. Hm. He knocks one more time for good measure before he gives up, back sliding against the wall before he hits the floor. Gross, Tenma glazes over in his head, how many dirty feet have touched this floor? He’s going to stand up with grime lodged into his thighs. 

Maybe he sees the appeal of what commoners see for once, as even he tunes out the eccentric hum after a while. Their dorms couldn’t even be close to being called rural, but Tenma can still smell the mist of the lake at the base of the building. He crunches his pillow in his hands, laying it on his thigh to rest his head on. 

A frog croaks from the water below, but Tenma can barely hear it over the pull of sleep.

He dozes off barely hearing the sound of his own breathing.

-

“Tenma?” A whisper, a hand on his shoulder.

He leans away from the touch, rubbing his eyes and peeking them open.

“Dude, it’s two in the morning, what are you doing out here?”

Tenma looks up, squinting at the flashlight blinding him. Purple leopard print, he sees through the glare.

“Banri-san..?”

Banri turns off his flashlight, shoving his phone in his pocket and fishing for his key in his backpack. He jiggles it a bit, and Tenma cringes at the sound of the keys clinking together.

Banri sticks the key in, unlocking the door silently and flicking on a light switch. Tenma can barely make out the dorm through blurred vision, dirty clothes strewn over the floor, posters for what he assumes are games he’s never heard of plastering the walls. He throws the keys on the counter, shifting on his heel to reach out a hand to Tenma.

“Come in.”

Tenma gets up on wobbly legs, grabbing the hand extending towards him. The dorm smells faintly of axe and old take out, a familiar scent that shouldn’t feel as homey as it does. Tenma glances at the led clock on the microwave as he’s dragged by it, 2:14am.

He’s pulled over to Banri’s bed, Sonic sheets and blue comforter crumpled on the bed, and he absentmindedly thinks about how he didn’t take his shoes off on his way in. Banri doesn’t seem to care though, pushing him down and tucking him in. Domestic.

The weight off his feet is gone when Banri takes his shoes off, accompanied with a snort and a comment about how he’s rubbing off on him. His socks are accented with rockets, something that look straight out of the children’s section, but Banri thinks it’s endearing. Maybe Tenma is still a child at heart.

“Sorry for not letting you in,” Banri whispers, leaving Tenma to turn on the bedside lamp. He sees a purple tuft of hair peek out from the bed across the room.

“You should’ve texted me or something, I’ve been out all night playing Fortnite with lil’ dick down the hall.”

“Lil’..?” Tenma thinks for a moment. “Are you talking about Itaru-san..?”

“Yeah, that asshole kept sniping me.”

Tenma pushes himself up in the bed, nodding his head in faux agreement. Why was Banri playing a game called ‘Two Weeks’..?

“I’m sorry, that must be really disappointing.” Tenma smiles.

Banri laughs.

“For somebody who claims to know everything, you sure seem to never have a damn clue as to what I’m talking about.”

“Of course I do!” Tenma pouts, resuming a fighting stance with his pillow. “A fortnight is a period of two weeks. It’s literally in the name.” He pauses. “Fourteen nights.”

Banri looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“You’re so smart.” Banri teases, ruffling Tenma’s hair with his fingers. He doesn’t know what he said wrong, Banri’s soft laugh above him threatening to swallow him alive. Tenma gulps at the realization of his face flushing.

Banri pokes his cheek with his index finger, pushing him back down towards the bed. Tenma sighs, letting it happen. After all, a bed is more comfortable than resting your head on a wooden door of the middle of the night.

“Water?” Banri hums. Tenma shakes his head no as he begins to close his eyes. “Need anything else?” Banri whispers, breath hot against Tenma’s ear. Why was he suddenly so close? 

“No.” Tenma replies, burrowing his face into the pillow to hide the blush blooming on his cheeks. He’s suddenly hyper aware of everywhere Banri is. He feels his weight shift on the bed, the heat of his hand as it gently rests against his thigh..

“Okay.” Banri says, and though Tenma can’t bring himself to open his eyes, he can see the expression through his intonation. “Goodnight then.”

The lamp clicks off, and Tenma can no longer see the white shadows through his eyelids. He feels Banri move, sensory deprivation only heightening what he notices, and his whole body tenses when he feels Banri wrap his arm around his waist.

If his heart beats through his rib cage and kills him, he’s going to make sure his parents and his lawyers team up on Yuki to sue him for manslaughter. His throat is constricted, his lungs gasping for air he can’t have, and he feels like he’s being crushed under the weight of Banri’s arm. It’s like he’s drowning, and Banri is the cinderblock pulling him to the bottom of the water.

Tenma tries to sleep, he really does, he tries to ignore the blaring alarms in his brain that are telling him to run, that Yuki is more tolerable than this, that he can go run to the lobby and dive into the lake to never be seen again. He can go live a commoners’ life, he can get a job at a corner store and change his name to Amnet and dye his hair blonde. Nobody will recognise him if he wears glasses and picks up a Kansai accent, he’ll remove Tenma Sumeragi from the face of the Earth completely if it means killing whatever successes he has.

Banri’s nose presses against the nape of his neck and Tenma sweats. He feels Banri’s sleepy grin form against his skin, a puff of air exhaled from his nose. ‘He’s asleep’, Tenma reasons, shaky hands grabbing onto Banri’s forearm, ‘This is just an involuntary action that I somehow got roped into.’

“Tenma~” Banri hums, shifting his other arm to stroke Tenma’s hair. “You’re so cute when you’re clueless for once.” He nuzzles closer into him, and Tenma doesn’t know if the warmth is radiating off the heat extending down his neck or the proximity in which Banri is laying next to him. “You should be honest with me more often.”

Tenma doesn’t know if he’s meant to respond, or if Banri is going on a half-asleep tangent assuming that he’s already passed out.

He’s silent for another moment, breathing deeply while he waits for a continuation that doesn’t come.

Instead, Banri leaves a single kiss on Tenma’s neck.

It’s burning hot, even with the ceiling fan on overhead and one leg peeking out of the blanket. He can feel the beat of his own pulse going a thousand miles an hour where Banri’s lips were, and the trail of a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

His grip on Banri’s forearm tightens, and his facade is shattered.

So much for being a flawless actor.

A laugh against his back, another peck on his head, and Tenma feels as if he’s exploding. Banri shifts again, and suddenly Tenma is pinned under his hot breath. He can barely see the outline of his shadow, a soft glow shining in from the moon outside functioning as a spotlight between them.

One, two..

Despite his years of acting classes, in the hours he’s spent the human psyche and how it reacts to stressors, he finds himself confused as to what Banri is thinking.

Three, four..

“You’re clueless again.”

Tenma is glad there’s no light in the room, for the expression he must be making now is embarrassing to even think about.

Five, six..

Banri laughs, again. Is he really that funny?

Seven, eight..

“I wasn’t joking when I said it’s cute.”

Tenma is stunned that that’s what crumbles his self control. Who even is he anymore?

Tenma lurches up, catching Banri in the messiest kiss of his life, (Well, it is his first kiss, not counted faux kisses between thumbs on stage) and yet it somehow still seems perfect.

Even through the clash of teeth and the bump of noses, Tenma can reach up and grasp at Banri’s hair, the kiss melting into intimacy as it continues on. “Ow.” Banri mumbles as he pulls away, smirking and wiping away the saliva that connects them with his thumb.

It takes Tenma every ounce of his shattered teenage self control to not shut him up with another kiss. 

Maybe they’d have time for that later, no need to rush.

Tenma wipes his mouth on the corner of Banri’s comforter, turning over to try to go back to sleep. He squints for the microwave clock. 3:02am.

“Goodnight, Banri-san.” Tenma mumbles, trying to rub the redness off his cheeks.

He can physically feel when Banri’s confidence wavers.

“Ok, Tenma.” He pauses for a moment. “But we have to talk about,” Tenma can see him gesturing his hands. “This. Tomorrow.”

Tenma smiles.

“Alright, Goodnight. Banri.”


End file.
